


The Alternative

by Zi_Night



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Caleb Widogast Has Feelings, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, No Dialogue, Spoilers for episode 83, but most of them aren't good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:41:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21598972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zi_Night/pseuds/Zi_Night
Summary: A look into Caleb's head when something happens to Nott. A coda for episode 83, Liam had some amazing non-verbal acting that episode that I wanted to pair with some feelings.Can be read as Nott/Caleb if you want.
Relationships: Nott & Caleb Widogast
Comments: 2
Kudos: 108





	The Alternative

**Author's Note:**

> First, without question, Caleb loves Nott, even if he doesn't know how to say that yet. Second, this is a quick-ish thing I put together to try and get over some writer's block, so please forgive any errors you may see.

At first, he thinks it’s a joke. A prank, because that’s what Nott does. She makes jokes, acts silly, strives to make the world lighter. _She makes everything so much lighter. _Even though he can recognize the change of pressure following the completion of a spell, even though he can see darkness rise off her like smoke, even though he can feel how the atmosphere in the room changes, he still thinks it’s a joke. Because that’s what he wants it to. Because the alternative isn’t something he wants to consider.

But when she doesn’t move, it becomes harder to hold onto that fantasy. When he rushes over to her side and she doesn’t flinch, he thinks to himself that it’s because she’s a better actor than all of them believe her to be. When he reaches out to touch her, to shake her, he prays, to every god he’s ever heard of, that it’s a joke. Because the alternative is so much worse.

But then he shakes and nothing happens. Runs a hand under her nose and feels nothing. Reality starts to bear down on him, demanding to be recognized. He scoops her up and pushes reality down. Down to the same place he has pushed his panic to. He feels numb, distant, as he goes back up the stairs. Because the alternative would be turning to look at his companions. The alternative would involve looking at Jester, _about to weep_, looking at Fjord, _looking down pensively_, looking at Caduceus, _gathering magic in his hands as he prepares a spell, _or looking at Beau, _blank with disbelief._

The walk back up the stairs feels like an eternity. A detached part of him whispers that it has only been seconds, but it still feels like too much. _When was the last time I held her like this? I held her after Molly died, we had all been raw and hurting after that and holding her had been the only way to stopgap the hurt. I held her when we were at sea, sat her on my shoulder so we could admire the stars. I held her after we left this place last time. She had looked like she was on death’s door, like she was hanging on by a thread. I had pulled her into my arms because the alternative had been breaking down in front of all of them._

He comes to the realization that he hasn’t held her since they learned about her family. When they learned that her husband was gone and her child didn’t recognize her and she had been so angry with him. He pushed aside this brand of comfort because she, had been so raw. So close to falling apart at the seams, because her family was in danger and everything they did wasn’t fast enough. And after that he hadn’t done it because things had changed. She wasn’t just Nott anymore. She was _Veth,_ a woman with a husband who loved her and a child who didn’t remember her. He hadn’t done it because the alternative would have involved discussing who they were to each other and where they stood now, in light of their pasts.

He ignores the devil when they get back into the other room. Turns to look at his friends because there is nothing he can do. Watches as Jester begins to frantically go through her things looking for the supplies she needs to cast the spell. Watches as Caduceus calmly, _and how can he be so calm when Veth is dead, _talks to Jester, trying to make sure they don’t use the wrong diamond. He shakes in place and clenches his jaw, biting back any sound. Because the alternative would involve screaming himself hoarse.

He hovers over Veth’s body as Jester begins casting the spell. He probably shouldn’t. He should probably give her space. She’s already flustered and hasty and he can’t aid her in any way. But he can’t force himself to stop. His muscles refuse to move. His breath stays frozen in his chest. His eyes refuse to blink. He can’t move back. Because the alternative would mean admitting that he is useless to her.

He watches as light begins to shine because of the ritual. Watches as the diamond crumples and turns black in Jester’s hands. He feels water gather over his eyes, held in place only by surface tension. Feels his heart clench and stutter in his chest. Rubs his fingers against each other for something to do, but he barely feels the rub of skin against skin. He barely feels anything his body is doing because he had retreated into himself. His mind draws back into the space where reality can’t touch it. Because the alternative would mean breaking apart.

Through tunneled vision, he watches as a green, spectral hand grabs the diamond dust. As the hand presses the dust into Veth’s chest and attempts to force breath back into her lungs. And in that second, as he watches in slow motion the press of Traveler’s hand into his _best friend’s_ chest, belief swells in him. He’s never believed in the gods. He knows them to be real, but he’s never believed enough to worship one. Not in his youth, when he would still celebrate their holidays, not after what he had done to his family, _what god would look at him favorably after what he had done,_ and not now, even after all the time he has spent with Jester and Caduceus. But in this moment, he believes in the Traveler, in the Godhood of this weird entity who shouldn’t technically exist. Because the alternative would mean accepting that she wasn’t going to wake up.

His whole body untensed at the sound of her breath released from her lungs. Her exhale releases him from his vigil and whites out his brain. He’s too busy trying to regather himself to think. He hears Beau chide her for not checking for traps and all he can do is quietly repeat the phrase because he can’t summon up any other words. He hears Veth joke, _it’s what she does, diffuse tension,_ like she isn’t aware of what just happened. _And maybe she isn’t. She was there one moment and gone the next. Maybe she hasn’t yet processed that she died_. And it’s the only logic he will accept. Because the alternative is that Veth hold her life in so little regard, that her death doesn’t matter to her.

Once he’s regathered himself, he is angry. Not at her, _never at her, _but at something. He is angry at the world because _how could it be so unfair?_ She has a family she wants to return to. A husband who loves her. A son who wants to know her. A family she can’t return to because she isn’t who she is supposed to be. His anger makes him harsher than he wants to be. Curt where he should be comforting. _But how could the world be so unfair? _And he has to blame the world. Because the alternative would mean blaming himself or, worse, the others.

When they move back into the study. He doesn’t leave her side. He and Jester loom over her, as though she might hurt herself if they take their eyes off her. He watches as Jester uses magic to help restore her. He doesn’t take his eyes off her. He doesn’t care about the study. He doesn’t care about the others poking about. All he does is watch her. He does it because the alternative is admitting that he hasn’t been watching out for her as much as he should.

They go back to the prison. He doesn’t let his eyes wander. He doesn’t care about this place. This place killed her. He wants to get Yussa and leave. This time, he makes sure that she checks for traps. He watches intently as she looks over the lock, prepared to intervene in case the worse happens. As Jester works towards letting Yussa out, he drifts closer to her and rests his hand against her collar. She doesn’t do more than tilt her head to look at him before turning back to Jester. He keeps a hand on her collar as they move back out of the prison. Because the alternative means admitting there isn’t much else he can do to help her.

He doesn’t say much as the group discusses the Halas issue. Whether they should leave him in the Happy Fun Ball or take him outside. Whether they should free him or leave him trapped. He knows where he stands. The man killed Veth. No matter what agreements they may or may not have made with the man before that, her death meant the man could rot for all he cared. When the group waffles on the choice for too long, he makes his position clear. But he doesn’t tell them the true why. He uses logic to argue why they shouldn’t free the man. Because the alternative would mean exposing how shaken he truly feels.

When she comes to him and suggests that he is mad _at her_, doesn’t know how to address it. Because he is mad, he still feels the simmer of anger boiling inside of him, but he doesn’t know how to tell her it isn’t at her. Instead he focuses on her question. Uses logic to show her that she doesn’t need Halas. _That he can still help her. _She is smart, smarter than anyone gives her credit for, and she must understand how dangerous Halas is. But he can recognize that she is desperate. Desperate to be who she is supposed to be again. And he can’t blame her, because the alternative would be denying the tragedy she has lived through, _still lives through_.

His anger dulls as they sit, going through the wizard’s notes. She listens attentively, but he can tell that it isn’t enough. She nods her head, bounces in her seat, and her hands are a flurry of movement. He can’t give her what she wants. As much as it burns him to admit it, without more time, he cannot help her in the way she needs. But she agrees to give him time. Agrees to wait. For him. And he is grateful for it. Because the alternative would mean that she didn’t trust him to help her.


End file.
